Veela (Drarry fanfic)

Chapter eleven

Lucius Malfoy was almost nervous. Almost. He thought about what he would do if he was Draco and Narcissa was Harry. Shit would go down, that's for sure. Lucius knew that a veela could wreck utter chaos if their mate was in danger. But he had faith in Narcissa. He knew she of all people could restrain Draco.

He looked at Potter gaping on the floor in front of him.

"B-But if you kill me, what about- what about Draco?" Lucius laughed. Of course Potter wouldn't care he was about to die, he only cares about Draco.

"Draco! He doesn't really care! He was in on this you know!" Lucius spat. He could almost see Potter's heart braking. Good.

----

Draco screamed and clawed at his chest. It hurt! It hurt so much he could barely stand it! That wasn't the only painful thing, though. His mother wants to keep him from finding Harry. His father is 'out'. What if... What if Father was the one hurting Harry? The more he thought about it, the more sure he became. His father was threatening his mate and his mother was in on it! Before he knew it, his fist was connected with his mother's face, and a few seconds after that she was out cold.

Draco ran downstairs to his father's study. He found a locked box, containing what he was searching for. Aloe homora didn't work though, his father wasn't stupid. But his father was stupid enough not to pay attention in muggle studies. Draco remembered something Harry had told him, the art of 'picking locks'.

In a few moments the box was open and Draco was in his room with the veritaserum in his hand. He poured it down his unconscious mother's throat and stirred her awake.

"Where are they?" Draco asked, trying to sound threatening. "Father and Harry." Narcissa told him the exact location, and in minutes he was on his broomstick, flying to London.

----

The knife dug itself into Harry's back as he screamed. It continued splitting his skin from his shoulder to his tailbone. But Harry didn't care. He wanted to die, because Draco wanted him to die. Draco knew he was about to suffer and be slaughtered, yet he did nothing. This fact hurt him more than the wound gushing blood on his back.

----

Draco almost fell off his broom. The pain was as bad as being rejected. He felt like someone was slitting his back open. He knew this was what his father was doing to Harry. This was the reason he carried on.

As he landed, another line of pain stretched down Draco's back. He ran through the sewers, eventually coming to a dimly lit chamber.

His father stood smirking, a blood stained knife raised in his hand. Blood leaked across the floor like shadows. That blood came from his mate. Harry lay on the stone floor, two knife wounds in his back.

"Harry!" Draco yelled, running over to him, holding back a sob.

"Dr-Draco?" Harry whimpered feebly.

"I'm here, Harry, it's okay now." Draco pulled Harry into his arms and stroked his hair softly. That was when he remembered his father.

Draco eased Harry off him then jumped to his feet. He stared into his fathers eyes. There was something like... Fear there. Good. He should be scared. Draco roared- a sound he didn't know he could make- and grew fangs and claws he didn't know he had. He lunged on his father.

----

Harry looked at the ceiling. He desperately wanted to watch the fight, but he couldn't move. There were so many thoughts flying around his head.

If Draco knew, then why has he come to save me? Unless he didn't know. Then Lucius was lying! But why would he put his son in danger? Perhaps he wants to kill me more than he wants his son alive. But surely...

Harry started. If Draco hadn't come, then Harry would have given up. And if he had... Draco would have died without his mate. If the roles had been reversed, Harry wouldn't have lasted more than a day without Draco.

Suddenly, the sound of fighting stopped, and a figure came into Harry's eyeline. The figure knelt down beside him and laid him gently on his lap. Harry sighed in relief. It was Draco.

Draco's hands and teeth were covered in blood tinged with blue- veela blood. He was panting and exhausted. He picked Harry up, who had fainted, and walked into the streets of London. He knelt down and began to cry. For all he knew, Harry was dead. He was too distraught to check for breathing or a pulse.

Someone screamed- it could have been himself for all Draco knew- and suddenly there were people. People everywhere. People kneeling beside him, people on phones, people driving a van with sirens and flashing lights, people lifting him and Harry onto stretchers, people taking them into the van, people taking them out of the van. There were people carrying them into a big white building. People in uniforms. People putting them on beds. Then everything was black, an the people were gone.